They want me awake for whatever comes next.
I can’t throw my hands up to catch myself as we take a turn in the opposite direction. I tumble again, my hands painfully pulled tight behind my back when I roll over them. I can already feel my eye swelling shut from the impact, even through my drug-induced haze.
The van comes to an abrupt halt, and the back two doors are flung open. Rick and Johnny come into view, their vile smiles turning mystomach. “Wakey, wakey, bitch. It’s time to play,” Rick shouts, rubbing his hands together.
“No!” I scream into my gag, kicking at their hands as they try to pull me out by my feet. There’s not much I can do with my hands tied. They don’t bother catching me when I’m pulled out, falling to the concrete. Rick kicks me over so I’m lying on my back, getting a full view of the two demons above me.
“If you’re a good girl for us, we’ll let you live…maybe.” He smirks before he throws me over his shoulder.
Next thing I know, I’m thrown into a chair, layers of chains wrapped around me. They blindfold my eyes. His fist comes next. I’m not sure who it is. I think they might be taking turns on me. A kick to my ribs follows, and I fold over in pain, as much as the chains allow.
I can’t think through the pain, each blow taking another ounce of my hope at escaping and turning it to ash. I don’t give them the satisfaction of a single whimper. I hold it in—that’s what Grayson has done this whole time, fighting for his damn life alone for months. If he can survive this, then so can I.
Cold air brushes against my skin when my shirt is ripped open. A few grunts later, and my chest is painted with a sticky substance. Bile rises in my throat, but I keep it down, falling into the deep recesses of my mind, where I live in a perfect bubble with Grayson, making breakfast together each morning and falling asleep together each night.
With the pain and the blindfold, I start to lose track of what’s happening to me. It’s probably for the best. Just as I’m about to lose consciousness, I feel cold metal pressed to my temple—a gun maybe?
“Say cheese, bitch!” Johnny chuckles. Then, the metal swings into the side of my head.
Sweet nothing.
I’m thrown from the memory, thrashing in Grayson’s lap. “Make it stop,” I scream into his chest.
“We’re here, honey. They will make all the pain go away.” I’m lifted into strong arms and rushed through doors.
He doesn’t understand. I’m not screaming for my own pain, but for his. This has to stop. He can’t keep livingunder their thumb, always looking over his shoulder, chipping away at his soul with each fight forced upon him.
“Make it stop!” I clutch his shirt.
“Room. Now!” Grayson barks, ushering us down a private hallway. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead, lowering me onto a bed. “I’m going to make it all go away. They will never touch you again.You’re free.”
I don’t get a chance to clarify my words to him. Something sharp is pressed into my arm, and the fuzziness returns. I hear yelling in the background—someone making demands. A warm hand squeezes mine just before the lights go out.
More sweet nothing.
Research notes: cowboys will always come when you need them.
grayson
. . .
FORTY-ONE
Maisie’s hand goes limp.They gave her a sedative to help with the pain and let her body rest. I never let go of her hand. They can work around me. I’m not letting this woman out of my sight until I know she’s okay.
Okay? Who am I kidding? She’s far from okay. She got kidnapped and beaten within an inch of her life by the mafia, and still she never cried, never wavered. She never showed an ounce of hatred my way, though I deserve all her wrath.
“Fill me in,” I demand of the man who walks in with Maisie’s chart. He must be the connection Moretti was talking about. He looks me over with a quizzical gaze and then drops his eyes to her chart.
“Hello to you too,” he says with a chuckle. “My name is Dr. Reed, and I’ll be taking over Maisie’s case.”
“Is she okay?”
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Will she be okay?” I reiterate, my temper flaring. I don’t have time for games.
He taps the clipboard, reading over the last line. “She’ll be fine, but it’s going to take a bit before she’s back to normal.”
